


Haste & Leisure

by callmecirce



Category: Miraculous Ladybug, Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: AU, F/M, Pride & Prejudice AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-08 07:06:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14689014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/callmecirce
Summary: Paris's favorite playboys are back in town, and everyone is buzzing with the news.  Marinette Dupain Cheng and her sister, Bridgette, run into them at a party and they find that while Adrien Bourgeois is as kind as he is attractive, his friend Felix Agreste is cold and aloof.  When Bridgette falls hard for Adrien, Marinette is determined to see her sister happy even if it means crossing proverbial swords with Felix.If you're familiar with Pride and Prejudice, you'll see immediately where this is going.





	1. First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Look at that! I'm still alive, and finally ~~found~~ made a bit of time to write! I've reopened my [Etsy shop](https://www.etsy.com/shop/TheGreenWorldShop), and let me tell you, running even a tiny small business is a LOT of work. Anyway, I had this crazy idea for a Pride & Prejudice crossover AU almost a year ago, and it's been rattling around in my head ever since. Now that I'm finally getting it down...yeah. This is unfiltered and unbetaed. Sorry, not sorry. I hope ya'll enjoy!

“Marinette!  Bridgette!  Come look!”

Marinette looked up from her sketchbook, and met her sister’s questioning gaze with a shrug. 

Bridgette echoed her shrug.  “Coming, _maman_ ,” she called, setting aside her book and climbing down from the loft. 

Marinette sighed and followed her sister down the stairs, then paused in confusion when she didn’t see her mother in the kitchen.  “ _Maman_?” 

“In here, girls,” Sabine Cheng called from the next room.  “Look at this!”

Marinette crossed the kitchen after Bridgette and stopped next to her mother, whose excited gaze was riveted to the screen. 

“—absence of any announcement has given rise to a great deal of speculation,” Clara Contard was saying, speaking to the camera from in front of an impressively ornate gate, and gesturing to the bustling activity going on behind it,  “but it seems clear that someone is finally moving back into the Agreste Manor here in the heart of Paris.  Whether it is the notoriously reclusive designer himself, or perhaps his equally reclusive son, is anyone’s guess.  Either way, the sudden activity here has caused a ripple through the social elite in Paris and everyone in the city is excited to see who will be taking up residence.”

The screen split, and the on-site feed was joined by a nodding Nadja Chamack in the studio.  “Thank you Clara.  This is exciting news, and of course, we will continue to cover the story as it develops.”

Clara nodded, smiling widely.  “Absolutely, Nadja!  Make sure to stay tuned for the latest updates on Paris’ favorite celebrities!”

The screen shifted again, leaving only Nadja in the studio, and Sabine muted the volume as she passed things over to their resident meteorologist.  “Isn’t this exciting?”  Sabine asked, turning to her daughters.  “I know you probably don’t remember, but Emilie Agreste used to be one of our very best customers!  If it hadn’t been for her regular orders back when your father and I were just starting out—“

“—And her referrals to other wealthy clients—” Bridgette interjected, grinning.

“You might not have gotten the _boulangerie_ off the ground,” Marinette finished for them in fond exasperation. 

Sabine nodded, chuckling at the girls’ perfect recitation of her oft-spoken praise.  “And we might not have added the pastries to our menu if she hadn’t been so insistent that we expand!”

“We know, Maman,” Bridgette said, rolling her eyes good naturedly.  “Do you really think that she’s back?”

“I don’t know, but I hope so!  She’s a lovely woman, and I’d be thrilled to get reacquainted with her.”

“I hope they are back,” Marinette said.  “Gabriel Agreste is the undisputed king of high fashion, and I would kill for an opportunity to meet him.”

Bridgette shuddered.  “The ice king, maybe.  Isn’t he supposed to be brutally cold?”

“Misunderstood genius, Bri.  Could he really be that awful if his wife is as sweet as _Maman_ says?”

The girls looked to their mother, who shrugged.  “I’ve never met him.  Even back then, he was terribly reserved.”

“Hmm.  Well, you’re welcome to him, Nettie.  I’d much rather meet their son.”  Bridgette nodded to the photo currently displayed on the muted television, waggling her eyebrows.  “I love that tousled, just out of bed look.”

“Bridgette!” Sabine gasped in mock outrage.  “What do you know of men just out of bed?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” she quipped, grinning at her mother.

Marinette laughed.  “Felix Agreste is the taller one, with the smirk.  Bed-head guy is Adrien Bourgeois.”

Bridgette blinked.  “The mayor’s son?”

“The very one,” Marinette said, eyeing the next photo appreciatively.  “Honestly, I’d be thrilled to meet any of them, but my interest in those two has little to do with fashion.”

 

“What do you think, Fe?  How does it feel to be back in Paris?”

“Stifling,” Felix said flatly, gazing around Adrien’s chosen room with distaste.  Years ago, his father had filled this room with a veritable arcade in a failed effort to fill the void left by his absence in his son’s life.  Felix hated every bit of it.

Adrien gripped the handle of the foosball rod to stop its spinning, and looked over at his friend, his brows knit.  “Are you sure you don’t mind me taking your old room?”

Felix scoffed, frowning.  “Not in the least.  If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be here at all, and I certainly wouldn’t have taken _this_ room.  You’re welcome to it.”

Adrien straightened, looking around the room himself.  He frowned.  “You didn’t have to come, you know.  And you didn’t have to open the house.  We could have taken rooms at the Grand Paris.”

Felix’s expression softened.  “I know.  I came because I wanted to, and I opened the house because I’d much rather live here than subject either of us to the scrutiny of living in a public hotel.  Besides, New York had grown stale, and I know you enjoy your father’s company as little as I do, mine.”

Adrien snorted at that; both men knew the truth of that statement, and it needed no further discussion.   Instead, he rolled from the bed and crossed to the large open windows to peer out at the people below.  “How long do you think it will take for that circus to clear out?”

“The movers will be done by this evening.”  Felix joined Adrien at the window, and gestured to the media personalities gathered just outside the gate with his chin.  “The vultures will continue to circle until after we’ve shown ourselves, and some other society news comes along to distract them from us.”

“This is no better than New York was,” Adrien muttered, dismayed.

Felix grunted his agreement.  “Honestly, it will probably be worse.  We’re _novel_ here.  They’re going to dog us until the novelty wears off.”

“I guess it was unreasonable to think that I could just slip quietly back into town and go to university like everyone else.”

Felix arched a brow, a faint smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth.  “I told you that it would have been better to let your father make an announcement.”

“No, no announcements!  Then everyone will definitely know where to find me.  This way, I at least have a chance at anonymity.”

“If you say so.”  The smirk deepened, and amusement colored his tone.

“Killjoy.”

“Realist.”

“Come on, Fe.  Let’s test it out.”  Adrien turned to face him, his face lit with excitement.  Felix raised his brow in question, and Adrien continued.  “There’s a mixer at the university tonight, and we both need some fresh air.”

Felix shook his head.  “We’ll never make it out the door without being mauled by that pack of rabid dogs.”

“Of course we will.”  Adrien grinned, and Felix felt a prickle of unease at the expression.  That smile always meant mischief.  “I have a plan.”

 

“Marinette, Bridgette, there you are!  I was starting to think that you’d bailed on us.”

“Of course not!”  Marinette grinned, winking.  “We just wanted to make an entrance, that’s all.”

“Entrance-schmentrance.  Nettie had a wardrobe crisis that took forty-five minutes to resolve, and that was after she lost track of time and started getting ready late.”

“You’re dead to me, Bridgette.”  Marinette deadpanned.

“You both need watches, but we all know you’d just lose them,” Alya interjected, smiling to take any sting out of the words.  “But you both look amazing, so whatever it was that took so long, it was worth it.”

Marinette looked down at her red and black cropped halter top with a proud smile, then cocked her hip out to the side in an exaggerated pose.  She’d paired the delicately crocheted halter with a pair of black, high-waisted skinny jeans that showed her petite figure to great advantage.  She grinned and struck another pose.

“Looking good, Nettie!”

“Nino, hi!  Thanks.  I just finished the top this afternoon.”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Bridgette pouted, looking down at her own Marinette original.  As the more demure of the two, she wore a [shirred off the shoulder blouse](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/326229566748664632/) and coordinating harem-style linen pants.  “Marinette assured me that I hadn’t sacrificed style for comfort but now I’m thinking she must have deceived me.”

Nino laughed, and slipped his arm around Alya’s waist.  “Hi, Bri.  You’re lovely, too, and you know it.”

Bridgette abandoned the pout, and grinned instead.  “I do, don’t I?”

Marinette looked Nino and Alya up and down, and nodded in satisfaction.  “We _all_ look good.  We need to get gussied up more often.”

“Right?  And we’ll have plenty of opportunity to do so.  There are a ton of events coming up over the next few weeks!”

Marinette and Bridgette nodded excitedly, but Nino groaned.  “And you girls are going to drag me to all of them, aren’t you?”

Alya snorted.  “Don’t act like you don’t like it, babe.”

“Seriously.”  Marinette gestured drily to the dancefloor, where women out numbered the men two- or three-to-one.   “This is a veritable sea of nubile young women.  How are you complaining?”

“Oh, that part is fine.”  He smiled wolfishly, his gaze taking in all three of them.  “Especially since I get three of the hottest women in here all to myself.” 

Alya pinched him on the ass, and he jumped.  “Down boy.”

He grinned unrepentantly.  “This would be awesome if you guys didn’t make me get all dressed up.  How am I supposed to be comfortable in this stiff, button-up nonsense?”

“Stop being melodramatic.  I’ve slept in that shirt, remember?  And I **know** you know how much I like it when you wear your sleeves rolled like this.”

His gaze darkened at that, and the sisters shared a knowing look. 

“None of that, you two.  You can go snog later.”

Bridgette nodded, and began dragging Nino to join the mass of writhing bodies on the dance floor.  “Right now, we want to dance!”

Marinette and Alya whooped their agreement and ushered him from behind.

He shrugged, allowing himself to be led.  “Who am I to deny a trio of beautiful…”  He trailed off, looking around as a ripple of murmurs swept through the room. 

“Holy shit,” Marinette breathed, staring back the way they’d come.  “It’s them.”

“What?”  Nino asked, at the same time that Bridgette said, “Who?”

“Felix Agreste, and the Bourgeois heirs.”

Alya’s eyes bugged out, and her jaw dropped.  “Fuck me, it is them!  I didn’t recognize the guys at first, but that’s definitely Sabrina and Chloe.”

Marinette nodded.  “I guess we know now who’s moving in to the Agreste mansion, Bri.  But what are they doing here?”

Bridgette peered through the crowd, frowning.  “Are you sure?  They don’t look much like the pictures we saw earlier.”

“It’s them.  I think they’re trying to lay low.  I’ve never seen either of them so…” She trailed off, her head tilted to the side in consideration.

“Common?” Alya supplied, her brows raised.  Then she giggled.  “Here we are, all dressed to impress, and they come in here slumming it and still manage to look gorgeous.”

“I’m still here,” Nino cut in.

“Of course you are, babe.”  She dragged her eyes away from the group still standing awkwardly near the front, and squeezed her boyfriend’s hand.  “Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten who I’m going home with tonight.”

“Fuck, he’s even hotter in person.”

“Bridgette Dupain-Cheng, don’t let our mother hear you talking like that!”  Marinette jibed automatically, but her own eyes were drawn to Felix—and she couldn’t help agreeing with her sister.

“I think she’d forgive me just this once.  I mean, look at that smile!  He looks like such a sweet cinnamon roll and—oh shit, he’s looking this way!”  Bridgette darted a glance at her sister.  “Are you seeing this?”

Marinette nodded, watching as the new comers moved farther into the room.  Around them, people went back to dancing and drinking and talking, though it was clear that many of them still had their eyes on the infamous socialite sisters and the young men trailing them.

With an effort, Marinette turned her back on them and started dancing.   She’d come to have a good time with her friends, and by all appearances, so had Felix and Adrien.  No matter how badly she wanted to introduce herself to Felix Agreste—both as the son of her fashion idol, and as an interesting and attractive person in his own right—she wasn’t going risk exposing him by drawing more attention his way.  Besides, she couldn’t imagine that he would welcome any such interruption.

“I don’t think many people have recognized them,” she murmured to her friends later, when they’d left the dance floor for drinks and a bit of air.  “And I think that those who have are afraid to approach them.”

“I don’t blame them.”  Nino shuddered theatrically.  “If they have any sense, they’re steering clear of the Bourgeois Brats and hoping they’ll terrorize someone else.”

Alya snickered.  “Ain’t that the truth.”

  “Actually, I’m surprised that you haven’t gone over there, Nettie,” Bridgette said.  You’ve never been intimidated by the Bourgeois girls before.”

“No, but I’ve also never gone out of my way to pick a fight with them, either.”  She shrugged, and tried not to watch Chloe Bourgeois clinging familiarly to Felix’s arm.  “They’re just…hanging out.  It would be rude to butt in when they’ve gone out of their way to be circumspect.”

“That’s true,” Bridgette allowed.  “But when will you get another chance to—“ 

Nino’s eyes widened comically and Marinette grinned mischievously.  Don’t look now, Bri, but you’re going to get your wish.  They’re headed this way, and Mr. Bed-Head seems to have his eye on you.”

“Nettie!”  Bridgette froze, and Alya giggled.  “Please tell me you’re joking!”

Marinette’s smile widened, and she shifted her focus to a point just past her sister’s shoulder.  “Hi!” she offered, and was rewarded with a shy smile from none other than Adrien Bourgeois himself.

“Um, hi.  I’m, um—“ He broke off with wide eyes, suddenly realizing that if he identified himself, that his anonymity would be lost.

“Welcome to join us for a drink,” Nino finished for him with a wink, making a space for Adrien between himself and Bridgette.  Felix, who’d followed Adrien over, lingered just outside the group.

Alya leaned in conspiratorially, and Adrien did the same.  “We recognized you when you came in,” she whispered, smiling reassuringly at his panicked expression.

Marinette leaned in as well.  “Don’t worry, we haven’t outed you.”  She nodded to his rough ensemble with a grin.  “Love your disguise, by the way.  You look like you just came from work.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he smiled back.  “That was the idea!” he chirped happily.

Behind him, Felix scowled.  “We **smell** like we just came from work, too.”

Bridgette giggled behind her hand, and Adrien turned to her with a blush.  “I don’t smell that bad, do I?”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head “No!  Not at all.”

He smiled charmingly. “So, if I asked you to dance with me, you might say yes?”

“You want to dance with me?” she squeaked, blushing hotly.

Marinette gave her a nudge.  “That means yes,” she told Adrien, rolling her eyes.  “It’s…Ren, right?”

“Ren? Oh!  Yes!  Ren!”  Nino snickered, and Felix scoffed in apparent disgust.  Adrien jabbed his thumb over his shoulder.  “The grump back there is Fe.”

“Well, Ren, I’m Marinette, and this is my big sister Bridgette.”  She nudged her sister again, and then lowered her voice conspiratorially.  “We all call her Bri.”

 

“I cannot believe you dragged me here, with your sisters no less!” Felix hissed at Adrien when he finally left Bridgette with her friends and returned to his own.  Felix clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth furiously.  “And then you abandon me to them so you can go off and dance with the only attractive woman in the whole room!

Adrien ducked his head sheepishly.  “I didn’t know any other way to escape notice,” he said apologetically.  “At least we did manage to evade the press.”

“Thank god for that,” Felix muttered darkly.  “Though I feel compelled to point out that we could have done so without their help or attentions if we’d simply stayed put.”

“Come on, Fe!  Where’s the fun in that?”

“Where’s the fun in drinking cheap liquor with sleazy people at a lame party while trying to avoid your grasping harpy of a sister?”

Adrien blinked at him, his expression disbelieving.  “We are at a college party, in Paris, without body guards or paparazzi, surrounded by beautiful women in various stages of intoxication, and that ‘grasping harpy’ is the one who got you out here.  Are you really complaining right now?”

Felix merely pursed his lips and glared out at the party as if it had personally offended him.

“Look, there’s Marinette, right there.  She’s every bit as beautiful as Bri, and a damn good dancer to boot.  Go, ask her to dance, have some fun, cut loose a little bit. I can’t stand to see you over here looking like a miserable thunder cloud.”

Felix glanced briefly at Marinette, then shook his head.  “You’ve already staked a claim on the only good looking woman here, and I am in no mood to waste my time dancing with a girl who can’t find her own partners.”  From the corner of his eye, he saw the girl stiffen and he fought the urge to wince guiltily.  Damn, he hadn’t meant to say that, much less for her to hear it.  Why did feeling awkward always make him surly and mean?

Adrien seemed to agree with his unspoken thought, because he was now frowning at him in disapproval.  “Sometimes, Fe, I swear that you go out of your way to find things to be pissy about.”

“And sometimes I think you go out of your way to see only sunshine and rainbows,” Felix shot back, “no matter how foul the weather.”  Adrien drew back, stung, and this time Felix did wince.  “I’m sorry.  I’m being an ass.  You go dance.”

“You know, Fe, you might actually make some new friends, if you gave people a chance.”  Adrien clapped him on the arm, and then made his way back over to Bridgette’s group.

“I don’t blame you at all for not wanting to dance,” Chloe said, appearing at his elbow.  “Especially not with **her**.  Bridgette isn’t bad, but Marinette is just a bitch.”

Felix looked at her in surprise, wondering just how long she’d been standing there, and then her words actually sank in.  “Wait, you know them?”

She nodded, her lip curled in distaste.  “Her parents run the best _boulangerie-patisserie_ in Paris, and it is **the** place to go for coffee.  Both girls work in the café there.”  Chloe sniffed disdainfully at the idea of working in a café, then continued.  “Bridgette knows her place.  Marinette does **not**.”

Felix felt his brows raise.  In other words, Bridgette let Chloe run roughshod wherever she pleased, but Marinette did not.  Felix acknowledged a grudging respect for the young woman. He glanced to where she’d been sitting a moment ago, but she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...be honest. What do you think? Is it worth pursuing? Do you see where I'm going with this?


	2. A Second Look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette and Bridgette see the guys again, this time at the Forster's Club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the positive reception! I'm having a blast with this, and I am so excited to follow this story to its end.

“’I am in no mood to waste my time dancing with a girl who can’t find her own partners’”, Marinette mocked as she scrubbed at a countertop, deepening her voice to mimic Felix’s.  “What an ass!”

Bridgette giggled, pausing for a moment in her sweeping.  The café was closed for the night, and the two girls were nearly finished with clean-up.   “That was a rather unkind thing to say,” she agreed.  “But he is friends with Adrien, right?  He can’t be all bad.”

“Your Adrien is a sweet, innocent cinnamon roll,” Marinette said, snorting.  She tossed the dish rag into the sink and opened the till to begin counting money.  “He probably found the one redeeming facet of Felix’s character and set about trying to help him.  He can’t be blamed for the company he keeps.”

“He is not my Adrien!” Bridgette gasped, blushing.  She fumbled the dustpan in her hand and it clattered to the floor, scattering its contents at her feet.  Scowling, she bent once more to sweep the debris back into the pan.

“Oh, I think that he is.  He hardly left your side at all last night.”  Marinette looked up from the cash drawer to see that Bridgette’s blush had deepened.  She grinned in triumph.  “Besides, I notice that you didn’t argue the rest of my statement.”

“Alright then, Felix is a boor,” Bridgette allowed dumping the pan into the trash bin.  She joined Marinette at the counter and began checking credit card receipts against their closing print-out.  “But Adrien is wonderful and I want to see him again.”

“And because he doesn’t want to go anywhere without his friend,” Marinette finished for her, “you want me to double date with you guys so that it isn’t awkward.”

Bridgette blinked.  “How did you know?”

“I heard you on the phone earlier when we were on break,” she said, wincing.  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was on the balcony and the hatch was open.”

“Oh, goodness!  I was so excited to see that he’d texted me that I forgot you were up there.”   Bridgette shrugged and stapled the receipts to the printout, then reached under the counter for a deposit envelope.  “It isn’t even a date, really.  I just don’t want to go alone.”

Marinette began to count out the day’s deposit, stacking the cash in front of Bridgette so that she could count it as well.  It only took a moment, after all, and it helped to ensure accurate book-keeping.  Both girls stayed quiet as they counted, but as soon as Bridgette finished Marinette took up the thread of their conversation.

“So what makes either of you think that the high and mighty Felix Agreste would consent to spending the evening with a lowly baker’s daughter?” she asked, her tone almost bitter.  She’d hoped to meet him, and had even fantasized about hitting it off with him.  They’d have dinner and talk fashion and design, and when they were done, his goodnight kiss would leave her weak in the knees.  Marinette scoffed.  _Not likely_ , she thought almost acidly.  Had she not encountered him on Thursday, she might have leapt starry-eyed at the prospect of spending the evening with him.  But his churlish behavior the night before had shattered her fantasies and his insults had stung more than she’d admitted.

“Actually, Adrien said that Felix has already agreed.  He’s invited us to meet them at the Forster Club tonight at eight.”  Bridgette sighed as she tucked the money into the bank envelope and locked it in the discreet safe under the counter.  Then she rose and leaned back against the counter to look at Marinette.  “I’m a terrible sister, aren’t I?”

“Of course not!” Marinette said, impulsively hugging her sister. “You’re the best of sisters, which is why I will willingly subject myself to an evening of social torture if it means that it will make you happy.”

“You’re sure?”  Bridgette asked, hope and guilt warring on her face.

“Absolutely.  I can always ask Alya and Nino to meet us there, right?”

“Of course!”  Bridgette nodded, looking relieved, and led the way from the shop into the stairwell behind it.  “Maybe he’ll actually dance this time!”

“He can dance all he wants,” Marinette said as she locked the door behind her, “so long as he doesn’t expect to dance with me.”

“Come on, Mari!  Give him a chance.  You might find that he isn’t an ogre after all.”

Marinette’s only answer to that was another snort. 

 

* * *

 

“Tell me again, why you think I needed to be here?”  Felix asked, leaning close to Adrien to speak directly into his ear.  The thumping bass in the club was so loud that he could feel it in his chest.  He was surprised that his ears weren’t bleeding.

“You’re here because it’s not healthy to hide away in that enormous house all the time, and because I want you to like Bridgette and her friends as much as I do.  Besides, the girls wanted to go out again.”

Felix scoffed derisively.  “Bridgette is sweet enough, but her friends are ridiculous. And your sisters could have gone without us.”

Adrien shot him a quelling look, which he then shifted to include Chloe and Sabrina behind him.  “Fine, you’re here because I asked you to come.  Now, play nice, all three of you.”  His gaze moved beyond them then, and he brightened visibly.  “Bridgette, Marinette, you made it!”

“Joy, joy,” Felix muttered as Adrien embraced each of the girls in turn.  It didn’t slip his notice that he barely bussed Marinette’s cheek, but pressed a real kiss against Bridgette.  The girl blushed prettily and smiled at Adrien through her lashes.

Felix pressed his lips together reprovingly, and shared a look with Chloe.  Didn’t Adrien realize that she was merely dazzled by a celebrity, and that he would likely be just another conquest?  After all, he’d heard enough at the University mixer to know that both girls were well liked and much sought-after by their male peers—and a few of the females as well.

Adrien grasped his shoulder then, drawing him from his thoughts.  “You ladies remember my friend, Felix, right?  And my sisters, Chloe and Sabrina?”

Marinette smiled at the other women, then met his eyes boldly and raised a brow.  “I most certainly do,” she said, smirking up at him.

“Of course we do,” Bridgette said, darting a worried glance at her sister.  “It’s good to see you again!”

“Likewise,” Felix lied.  There was an awkward pause then, and Adrien surreptitiously jabbed an elbow into his side.  Oh, right.  He was supposed to **dance**.  He looked dutifully back to Marinette and cleared his throat.  “Marinette, would you like to dance?”

“Dance?” she and Chloe blurted together, both too surprised to filter their responses. “With you?”

“You can’t be serious, Fe,” Chloe said, her tone disbelieving. 

“That was the idea, yes,” Felix answered them, bristling at their reactions.  “And I was completely serious.   I am capable of dancing, you know.”

She blushed in embarrassment, her mouth opening and closing, and Chloe snickered.  Alya appeared at her side, Nino at her back, and saved her from answering.

“There you guys are!” she said, smiling broadly.

Marinette turned to her gratefully.  “Alya!  Hi!”

“You ready to get your groove on, girl?”  She rolled her body sensuously as she spoke, and Marinette laughed.

“Absolutely,” she said, grinning.  Then she turned grudgingly back to Felix, Chloe and Sabrina.  “Did you want to come with us?”

“Ah, no.  I think I will just get something to drink, for now.”

Chloe smiled smugly at Marinette and moved closer to Felix, her hand on his arm possessively.  “Nonsense, Fe.  Come dance with us.”

Felx shook off her hand and took a step back, trying to mask his distaste.  “Perhaps later,” he said in an effort to mollify her.  It didn’t work; her expression turned cold.

“Fine.  Sabrina, let’s go.”

The two haughty women marched off in one direction, while Alya led both Marinette and Nino in another.  All three of them looked relieved, and honestly, Felix couldn’t blame them. 

After a moment’s hesitation, Adrien and Bridgette chose to follow the trio rather than the pair.  As he passed, Adrien gave him a dirty look that Felix had no difficulty interpreting.  _You should have said yes_ , the look said.  _You should have gone with them_.

Well, fuck Adrien.  He got to dance with the sweet Bridgette, but it was clear that the prickly Marinette would much rather dance with Alya and her boyfriend than with him.  Which was perfectly fine.  He hadn’t wanted to come in the first place, let alone dance in such close quarters with so many other people.

Turning resolutely from the dance floor, he made his way over to the bar to claim a stool and as soon as he snagged the bartender’s attention, he ordered a double of Jameson on the rocks.  This was certainly turning out to be a double-shot kind of night, he thought sourly.  

Drink in hand, he turned on the stool to lean back against the edge of the bar and sought Adrien with his eyes.  He found him not far from where he’d left them, dancing very close to Bridgette.  They were somehow managing to converse despite the blaring music.  As he watched, Adrien said something in her ear that prompted her to turn a bright pink.  Her smile was genuine, and Felix considered that she might not be a rabid, gold-digging fan after all.

Then his eyes caught on Marinette.  Through the shifting mass of dancers between them, he could see that she was sandwiched between Alya and Nino, dancing almost lewdly.  He was pressed at her back with his fingers at her hips, while Alya danced at her front.  The two women were pressed intimately together, their hips rocking in time to the music.  Alya said something to Nino with her brow arched, and in response, he leaned over Marinette’s shoulder to kiss Alya soundly, with her still trapped between them.  Then Alya leaned in to say something to Marinette, who shook her head with a laugh. 

Felix shifted uncomfortably on the stool, feeling aroused and very much like a voyeur.  Had he mistaken the situation?  Were they a trio rather than a couple and their friend?  The idea was surprisingly titillating.  He took another long swig of his whiskey, and tried to focus on its smooth burn as it slid down his throat. 

It didn’t help.

When he looked again, he unexpectedly met Alya’s gaze.  She was still dancing, but she was definitely looking right at him, her expression appraising.  Then she bent to Marinette’s ear again, and this time she frowned and blushed hotly.  Alya shrugged, and they went back to dancing without talking.

Felix’s eyes stayed on Marinette.  She was wearing a simple v-neck tank and sinfully tight jeans, but she’d accessorized with pops of red at her ears, throat, and wrist.  He realized that she’d been wearing black and red before, too, and wondered idly if they were her favorite colors.  As she danced, she slipped out from between the other two and they moved into more of a circle.  This allowed him an excellent view of her derriere as she moved, and Felix couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than what she’d been doing before.

Felix threw back the rest of his drink and ordered another.

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette laughed as Nino and Alya moved up in front and behind her as they danced.  She slapped Alya’s ass playfully even as she pressed herself back into Nino’s pelvis.  His fingers flexed at her hips in response.  “That’s enough, you two!  People are going to get the wrong idea about us if y’all keep that up.”

“Maybe that’s what we want people to think,” Alya said, waggling her eyebrows.  “What do you think Nino, should we invite her to join us?”

“I think that’s a splendid idea, Al.  Here, let’s show her what she’s missing.”  He leaned forward and Alya met him over Marinette’s shoulder, kissing heatedly.

“Mm.   See, Mari?  He’s a fantastic kisser.”

Marinette laughed again.  “Come on you guys.  You’re just trying to get me wound up so I’ll find someone of my own.”

“Are we?” Alsa asked innocently.  “Honestly, I think you might have found someone already.  “Felix has been watching for the last ten minuntes.”

Marinette felt her face warm, and she scowled at Alya.  “Wait, was that little show for **him**?”

“Yup,” Alya said, popping the P.  “You should go talk to him.  He’s practically undressing you with his eyes.”

“No way,” Marinette said firmly.  “He’s fine where he is, and so am I.”

Alya shrugged and dropped it, but now that she was aware of him, Marinette couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.  Self-conscious now, she slipped out from between her friends and thankfully, they seemed to realize what she wanted.  She put her back to the bar and pointedly ignored him.   Adrien and Bridgette soon joined their loose circle. 

“Are you guys getting thirsty?” Adrien asked, shouting to be heard by all four of them over the music. 

Nino nodded. “I could go for a drink.  Ladies?”

There were nods all around, and they moved as a group away from the dance floor and over towards where Felix had stationed himself at the bar.  Marinette, though, had no desire to stay and make small talk with Felix. 

She touched Bridgette’s shoulder to get her attention.  “Get me a water, will you?”

“Yeah, sure.”  She frowned at Marinette, studying her sweat-dampened face.  “You okay?”

Marinette smiled reassuringly.  “I just need to visit the ladies’ room.  I’ll be back in a minute.”

“You want me to go with you?”

“I’ll go with her,” Alya volunteered.  “I want a shot and a water as well.  Hook me up!”

Marinette rolled her eyes and moved past the bar towards the hall, where the bathrooms were.  Beyond them was a small, quiet lounge that was intended to be a refuge from the loud music in the main room of the club, and beyond that was the entrance to the club’s offices.

“So, do you actually need to go?” Alya asked as they approached the ladies’ room.

“Do you?” Marinette shot back, pausing at the door.

Alya grinned.  “Nope.”

“You’re incorrigible.”  Marinette walked past the restroom without pausing and sought out a seat in the lounge.  “All I really wanted was a break from the music, and a place to sit down for a few minutes.”

“You have some of the best ideas,” Alya agreed.  She sat next to her with a happy sigh, and bent to rub her feet.  “I have to wonder, though, whether it was truly the music you wished to escape, or the brooding blonde at the bar.”

“The music,” Marinette answered flatly.

 “You do realize that he’s been watching you like a hawk all night, right?”

“He has not!”

“De Nile ain’t just a river in Egypt, you know.”

Marinette sighed.  “Why would he be watching me, Alya?”

“Um, because you’re hot?”

“So are all of his socialite beauty queens, and they come with the proverbial silver spoon.  You’re imagining things.”

 

* * *

 

 

“This place is a joke,” Chloe murmured at his ear, making him jump. The others had gone back to dance, and he’d thought he was alone.  Or, well, as alone could be in a club packed with partyers.

“Is it?” he asked, noncommittal.

“I know you’re as miserable as I am, Fe.  You’ve been glaring out at the dance floor all night.”

“I’m not miserable,” Felix protested.  And he wasn’t.  He wasn’t…happy, per se, but he wasn’t unhappy either.  Actually, he was rather enjoying the view, and he told her as much.

Chloe frowned, and followed his line of sight to the dance floor.  “Who are you staring at?”

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.  She has a rather fine—” he caught sight of Chloe’s horrified expression and stopped himself before he could finish that sentence as he’d intended to.  Instead, he finished lamely, “eyes.  She has rather fine eyes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already know that I am not going to cover the whole story in every detail, but I will definitely hit all of the high points one way or another. Is there anything that you specifically want to see me bring over?


	3. A Curious Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bridgette receives a surprising invitation from Chloe Bourgeois, of all people.

Marinette heard Bridgette come into the room and called an absent greeting as she continued to work.  The dress pattern she’d designed wasn’t coming together the way she’d hoped it would, and it was going to make her crazy until she figured out how to make it work. 

Bridgette answered just as absently.

“Is everything okay?” Marinette asked, looking up from her work.  Bridgette was leaning against the far wall, her expression thoughtful and a little dreamy.

“Yeah.”  Bridgette’s eyes focused then, and she moved away from the wall to sit across from Marinette.  “You’ll never guess who just called.”

“Adrien?” Marinette guessed, glancing up with a smile.

Bridgette shook her head.  “No, not Adrien.  Chloe.”

“Chloe?” Marinette echoed.  “I take it that she wasn’t calling to place an order,” she hazarded.

“No, she called to invite us over ‘for dinner and some girl time, or whatever’,” Bridgette said, imitating Chloe’s voice well.  “Though she did say that we should bring some of Papa’s macarons.  Demanded it, really.”  She waved her hand dismissively, as if that wasn’t important.  “But that’s not even the weirdest part!  She didn’t invite us to the hotel; she invited us to Agreste Manor.”

Marinette blinked, and set down the fabric and pins to give her sister her full attention.  “Chloe Bourgeois?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Invited us, as in, me and you.”

“Yup.”

“To the Manor.”

“To the Manor,” Bridgette confirmed. 

“You know what this is, right?” Marinette asked, a smile blooming on her face.  “Adrien put her up to this!”

“He must have,” Bridgette agreed,  wrinkling her nose.  “Why wouldn’t he have just called me, or texted?”

“Bri, that boy is shy.  He probably didn’t have much opportunity for casual dating before coming back here, and Lord knows he can’t get social advice from that friend of his.  I’d be willing to bet a month of chores that he had his sisters set this up, just so that he could see you again.”

“No bet.”  Bridgette grinned.  “I learned a long time ago never to bet against you.  “But—”

“Can you think of another reason that Chloe would have called with any invitation?  Why invite us to the Manor rather than the hotel?   Why include me in the invitation at all?”  Marinette sat back in her seat and drummed her fingers on her desk.  “You know Chloe hates me.  She always insists on either you or _Maman_ helping her when she’s here.  But,” she continued, holding up a finger, “inviting me makes it more likely that you will go.”

“I suppose so,” Bridgette said.  “I **hope** so.  But I haven’t the faintest idea what to expect.” 

“Awkwardness,” Marinette giggled.  “Lots of awkwardness.”

 

* * *

 

“Mr. Agreste?”

Felix turned from the window.  “Yes, M s. Sancoeur?”

“Your guests have arrived, sir.”

Adrien popped up from the couch, his face alight.  “Bridgette?”

“No,” his assistant said with a slight shake of her head.  “Your sisters, Mr. Bourgeois.”  Adrien’s expression soured, and Felix saw Nathalie suppress a smile.  “Shall I show them to their rooms, sir?”

“Please do.” Another thought occurred to him, and he called her back.  “Perhaps you could encourage them to unpack before joining us?  I want them to be perfectly at home here, after all.”

Nathalie Sancoeur inclined her head in acknowledgement, her eyes twinkling.  Felix smiled shamelessly, knowing that she’d understood him perfectly.  She would do everything in her considerable power to stall the Bourgeois girls, granting Adrien and Felix as much peace as possible.

“I wish you would let me hire her away from you,” Adrien grumbled good naturedly, dropping back to the couch.  “She’s a gem.”

“You’ll have to find your own gem,” Felix said with a shrug.  Then he turned back to the window and allowed the storm outside to recapture his attention.  It was a glorious storm, all dark, roiling clouds and sharp, cracking thunder.  Lightening lanced through the sky, sometimes jumping from cloud to cloud and sometimes arcing down to earth.  Each bolt lit the city below in stark, blue-white light, and cast it all into sharp relief.

Felix absolutely loved storms like this, but today, it was more a source of anxiety than comfort.  Would they decide not to come after all?  Or worse, would they come but meet with some disaster on the way? 

When he caught the bent of his thoughts, Felix turned from the window with a grimace.  Damn her, anyway.  She wasn’t even here yet and already she was interfering with his enjoyment of the day.

“How is it that you’re more anxious than I am right now, Fe?”

He shot a dark glance at Adrien and snorted.  “I’m not.”

Adrien’s lips quirked in amusement.  “You’re pacing like a caged panther.”

“I’m merely dreading an entire weekend of dealing with your sisters,” he lied.  He certainly wasn’t looking forward to that, but Chloe Bourgeois hadn’t featured in his thoughts at all just then.

“Uh huh,” Adrien said in frank disbelief.  “Keep telling yourself that.”

A clearing throat drew their attention to the doorway, where Nathalie Sancoeur stood, this time making no attempt to hide her smile.  “Your other guests have just arrived, sir.  The Bourgeois ladies are quite thoroughly engaged in their rooms; perhaps you would like to go down and greet them personally?”

Felix looked to Adrien, who was already halfway out of the room.  Of course.  “Thank you, Ms. Sancoeur.  We will.”

He followed Adrien into the hall, and heard Nathalie fall into step beside him.  “As requested, a broad selection of new films has been left out for your perusal in the theater, and dinner is on schedule to be served at seven,” she said briskly. “I will be in my office until nine.”

“Thank you, Ms. Sancoeur.  That will be all.”

“Do enjoy your evening, sir,” she replied, and continued on down the hall when he turned to descend the stairs.

He pretended not to notice how thoroughly she was enjoying herself at his expense, though he did admit to himself that it was at least a little tempting to let Adrien have her, after all.

 

* * *

 

Marinette tried not gawk as she looked around the foyer, and instead busied herself with removing her wet coat.   Their difference in wealth was already readily apparent; she would not draw further notice to it by gawping like a simpleton.

“Bridgette!” Adrien said warmly, practically skipping down the stairs to greet them.  Felix followed behind him at a more sedate pace.  “Marinette!  You made it!”

“Oh, a little rain can’t stop us,” Bridgette said.  A particularly loud crack of thunder made her jump, and she chuckled weakly.  “But I won’t say that I’m not glad to be out of it.”

“It is pretty nasty out there,” Marinette agreed. 

“We have a few hours yet before dinner will be ready,” Felix said when he reached the bottom of the stairs, “and we thought that you might enjoy a movie to pass the time.”

“Felix has the most amazing home theater set up, Bridgette.  Come on, you’re going to love it!”  Adrien took her hand excitedly, and a blushing Bridgette allowed him to tow her along. 

Marinette longed to follow them up the stairs, but stalled, fussing with her coat.  She knew Bri would appreciate the opportunity to spend a few minutes alone with Adrien, even if they did nothing but blush at one another.  “A home theater?” she asked when at last she hung her coat, her eyes sliding to Felix. He hadn’t moved either.

He nodded impassively and she resisted the urge to grit her teeth.  How rude could he be?  For crying out loud, he hadn’t even said hello! And now, the quiet in the foyer stretched to the point of awkwardness.  Marinette cast about for something to break the silence.  Then she realized that Chloe and Sabrina were nowhere to be seen in spite of being the ones to have issued the invitation and latched onto the realization gratefully.  “Did Adrien’s sisters decide not to come?”

A look of distaste flitted across his handsome face.  “No, they’re here.  They’ll meet us in the theater.”  He paused and held his hand out in belated invitation.  Shall we?”

Marinette sighed, unreasonably irritated both by his taciturn nature and his pretentious formality.  “Lead the way,” she said, resigned to an entire evening of awkwardly entertaining His Highness while Bridgette flirted with Adrien.

He turned wordlessly and made his way back up the stairs, leaving Marinette to follow.  At the landing, though, he stopped so abruptly that Marinette bumped into him, and would have toppled backwards if not for his steadying hand on her arm.  They stared at one another for a moment, frozen in place.  Then his eyes widened and he released her as suddenly as he’d stopped.

“My apologies,” he said.  “I’d only wanted to thank you for coming with your sister.  I was given to understand that she’d not have come without you, and I appreciate anything that makes him happy.”

Marinette shrugged.  “I feel the same way about my sister.  I’d dine with the devil himself, if it made her happy.”

Felix frowned, as if recognizing her veiled jibe, but he apparently decided to let it go.

Marinette’s lips quirked.  A pity, that.

“Oh my gosh,” Bridgette said, her voice somewhat muffled by the wall.  “How do you have these?”

As Adrien answered her in tones too low to understand, Felix stopped by an open door and nodded inside; Marinette slipped by him and stopped, taken aback by the room she’d entered.  Felix hadn’t been wrong to call it a “theater”.  It was a complete cinema in miniature: five rows of tiered reclining seats marched down to a large projection screen, which dominated the entire far wall.  Along the back wall, by the door, was a bank of fountain drinks, a popcorn machine, and a wet bar.

“This is an actual theater,” Marinette said blankly, too surprised to be either circumspect or witty.

“It is!  And look!” Bridgette gushed, brandishing six slim movie cases.  “None of these have even been released in theaters!”

“We arranged for private screenings of the films,” Felix said, somewhat smugly. 

“And we made sure to get this one,” Adrien added, pulling on of the cases from the stack, “since you’d said you wanted to see it, Bridgette.”

“That’s the new _Miraculous_ movie!” Marinette said, stunned.  She and Bridgette had been reading the Miraculous comic for years, and they’d been counting down the days to the movie’s release.

“Yes!” Bridgette said, squealing a bit.  “Can we watch this on, please?”

“Of course we ca—”

“I know you weren’t going to choose without us,” Chloe interrupted coldly, snatching the cases from Marinette’s hands.

“That would have been terribly rude,” added Sabrina. 

“We were going to let our guests choose,” Felix said smoothly.  “But we wouldn’t have started the film without you.”

“Are we not your guests too, Feli-bear?” Chloe asked, blinking up at him with wide eyes.

“You’re practically family, Chlo,” Adrien snorted. 

“Ugh, fine,” she sniffed. “But I’m choosing the next one.”

Felix shrugged.  “Fair enough.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get it started while you get snacks and find seats.”  He held his hand out for the movies, and Chloe made sure to brush his hand as she passed them over.

“I’ll save you a seat,” she simpered, and Marinette rolled her eyes.

As if there weren’t two dozen seats to choose from, she thought.  Then, with a mental shrug, she chose a seat in the back row.  Adrien and Bridgette had already chosen seats in the front, and Sabrina and Chloe were settling themselves into seats in the middle.  This way, Marinette could watch the antics of the other viewers as well as the movie itself—and she was closer to the snacks.  Perfect.

Or at least, it would have been.  Much to her consternation, though, Felix did not join Chloe and Sabrina in the middle row after dimming the lights.  Instead, he ignored Chloe’s beckoning gesture and sat himself in the back row, right next to Marinette.

She stared at him in surprise. 

“I prefer the back row,” he muttered by way of explanation.  “Closer to the snacks.”

 

* * *

 

Felix fought the urge to squirm in his seat.  He was uncomfortably and unaccountably aware of the woman sitting stiffly at his side, her expression incredulous.  What in God’s name had possessed him to sit **here** , of all places?  He’d never had any intention of sitting with Chloe; that much was a given.  But out of all the empty seats in the room, why had he chosen this one? 

“I didn’t sit up here alone to make you feel sorry for me,” she said quietly.  “I won’t be offended if you prefer to sit with your friends.”

“Is that your way of telling me that you want me to move?” he shot back, then cursed himself for speaking without thinking.  Even in the dim light of the theater, he could see her blush.

“No, of course not,” she said quickly.  She opened her mouth to speak again, then apparently thought better of it.  She closed it again without uttering a sound and focused her attention resolutely on the screen.

Felix did the same, but he took in very little of what he saw.  He wasn’t familiar with the comic, and had no real interest in the film it had spawned.  He might have been able to give it a fair viewing anyway, had he not sat himself next to the only person in the room who actively disliked him. 

What in the hell had he been thinking?

He’d only just begun to get into the story when the whole room was suddenly plunged into darkness.  Around him, he heard various exclamations of surprise and disappointment and found himself echoing the sentiment.  He’d forgotten all about the storm.  The theater was insulated against sound to prevent any other occupants of the house from being disturbed by the noise of a film, but it also served to isolate the theater from the sound of the storm outside.

“Of all the times for the power to go out,” Adrien said disgustedly.

“Oh Felix, I can’t see a thing!” Chloe whined.  “Don’t you have an automatic emergency generator?”

Felix stood and began making his way carefully to the door.  “I do, but it only powers things like the refrigerators, and the security system.  There are a few emergency lights in the halls; stay where you are, and I’ll bring light.”

“Well, be quick about it,” Sabrina snapped.  “One of us could get hurt, trying to stumble around in the dark.”

“That’s why he said to stay put,” Marinette pointed out, her voice sharp. 

Felix smiled at that as he stepped into hall.  If nothing else, at least he’d be entertained by the sparks that were sure to fly between the two women.

There wasn’t much light out here either, but the dim watery light coming in through the window at the end of the hall was still much better than the absolute dark of the theater.  He strode easily to the emergency light near the stairs and pulled it from its base, then turned to see that Marinette had followed him into the hall.

“The opened door let in enough light for me to leave,” she said with a shrug.  “But I think the others are waiting for you.”

He nodded his acknowledgement went back into the darkened room with his light directed at the floor. 

“It’s about time,” Chloe said, her tone annoyed.  “Shine the light here so we can get out of this stuffy room.”

Felix bit back his retort and did as she asked, shining the light on the floor of their row and then up the steps so that they could leave.  When they reached the grey light near the top, he turned back toward the last row—just in time to see Bridgette trip and fall with a pained yelp.


	4. House Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A doctor is summoned to look at Bridgette's ankle, and the weekend plans are adjusted accordingly.

“I cannot believe I tripped over my own feet,” Bridgette moaned from behind her hands.  “This is humiliating.”

“Oh, I can believe you tripped,” Marinette replied with a teasing smile, tugging her sister’s hands from her face.  “I just can’t believe you crippled yourself in the process.”

“Ugh, Nettie!  You’re not helping!”

“You’re smiling now,” Marinette pointed out.  Then she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper and leaned in close.  “And just think; if you hadn’t fallen, Adrien would never have had an excuse to scoop you up and carry you around as if you weighed nothing.”

“Marinette!” she hissed, laughing.  “It was pretty hot, though, wasn’t it?”

“Totally hot,” Marinette agreed.

“Here’s the ice!”  Adrien announced as he entered the library and made a beeline for Bridgette, who was blushing furiously.  “And some ibuprofen.  Here, this should help until Dr. Wang can get here to take a look at you.”  He passed the ice pack to Marinette, who dutifully wrapped it gently around her sister’s swollen ankle, and held the Advil out to Bridgette.

She and Marinette shared a look, but she took the bottle from his hand, shook a few pills into her hand, then reached to take the offered glass of water to wash them down.

“Adrien, really,” she said when she’d swallowed.   “Thank you for the ice and everything, but there is no reason that Nettie can’t drive me to the ER.”

“Absolutely not,” Adrien said, his voice firm.  “It’s still pouring out there, and it’s best for you to move as little as possible.  I’d hate for you to make your ankle worse than it already is when I’m in a position to help.”

“Dr. Wang is our private physician,” Felix added.  “Or he was, when last we lived in Paris.  “I can tell you from personal experience that he’s an excellent doctor.”

“But there’s no reason to trouble him, Feli-bear,” Chloe said.  “Honestly, the ER isn’t that far away and you could just have Pierce carry her to the car.”

Adrien scowled at his sister.  “Not happening, Chlo.”

“I’ve already called him, anyway,” Felix said, his tone clearly indicating that he would tolerate no further objection from her corner.  “He is perfectly happy to resume his position with our family, starting now.”

“Fine.”  Chloe huffed and stalked to the door, her annoyance clear.  “Come on Sabrina.  Now that the power is back on, I want to finish that movie.”

Marinette frowned after her, piqued as always by the woman’s selfish disregard for the people around her.

“Thank God,” Adrien breathed, relaxing.  His comment surprised a laugh out of both Marinette and her sister, and he shrugged sheepishly.  “My sisters are best taken in small doses.”

Felix snorted, but added nothing.

“Right this way, please, Dr. Wang,” they heard from outside the door.  “They’re in the library.”

A moment later a kind-looking, older Asian gentleman stepped into the room, followed immediately by an attractive woman in a sharp skirt suit.

Felix stepped forward, his hand out-stretched.  “Dr Wang, thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“It is my pleasure, master Felix,” the man said in accented French, taking Felix’s hand and shaking it warmly.  “It has been many years since I was last called here.  “You’ve grown.”

“It would have been more noteworthy if I had not,” Felix answered dryly.

Adrien stepped forward then, his own hand extended, and greeted the man in rapid-fire Chinese.  Fu looked surprised for a moment, and then a wide grin spread across his face.  He answered the greeting in kind, and whatever he said, it made Adrien flush brightly.

“You speak Chinese?” Bridgette asked excitedly, her eyes on Adrien.  “That’s fantastic!”

Marinette chuckled, and shook her head.  Their mother was going to absolutely **adore** this boy.

“Show off,” Felix muttered.

“So, this is the young lady, I take it?” Dr Wang, asked, gesturing to Bridgette.  At Adrien’s nod, the old doctor pulled a chair up to her chaise and then held his hand out to her.  “I’m Dr. Wang Fu, my dear.  And you are?”

“Bridgette,” she replied, smiling wanly.                    

“Alright, Bridgette, let’s see that ankle, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

 

While Marinette and Adrien went to get Bridgette situated in one of their guest rooms, Felix saw Dr. Fu to the door and then went to check on dinner.  The power had only been out for twenty minutes or so, but he knew that it was enough to have caused problems in the kitchen.

Thankfully, there had been no damage done.  The staff had still been doing prep work when the power went out, so there had been nothing to ruin.  They were running a bit behind schedule, but otherwise, dinner was in good order.

The rest of the weekend was less certain, as Marinette and Bridgette would now be staying the whole weekend.  Bridgette’s ankle was sprained, not broken, but it was a nasty sprain and Dr. Wang had given her something a bit stronger than ibuprofen to help dull the pain.  The girls had suggested that they go home, but Adrien had insisted that they stay.

“I couldn’t possibly let you go home now,” he’d said.  “Dr. Wang wanted you to stay off of your feet and get some rest.  Why not just do that here?  Fe’s staff can take care of anything that you need, and we can keep you company while you recover!”

The girls had agreed, and now Felix had four young women staying at his house for the whole weekend.

If the press got a hold of this, they’d have a field day.

Felix sighed and slumped into his favorite chair in his favorite room of the house: the library.  It was his refuge from the world, and wnyone who knew him, knew better than to disturb his peace in the library.

“What the hell, Felix?”

Everyone, it seemed, except Chloe Bourgeois.

“What has your panties in a twist now, Chloe?” he asked flatly, his head resting back against the chair, his eyes closed.

“They’re staying the **weekend** now?” she screeched, from what sounded like only a few inches away.  “How could you possibly allow them to impose on you like this?”

“First of all, you will either lower your volume, or you will be forcibly removed from this room,” he stated, his voice low and hard.  “Secondly, they are in no way imposing.  Thirdly, this is my home and I will allow anyone I like to stay here, imposition or otherwise.  And finally, unless you wish me to rescind my invitation to you, you will keep a civil tongue in your head at all times.”  He opened his eyes, and met her furious blue gaze with his own, cool green.  “Have I made myself clear, Ms. Bourgeois?”

“Perfectly,” she grated. 

“Excellent.”  He leaned his head back and allowed his eyes to slide closed once more.  “Dinner is at 7:30.  You may entertain yourself until then.”    

She muttered a curse under her breath, but Felix chose to pretend that he hadn’t heard it.  She moved across the room then; he could hear her shuffling through the magazines that had been left on a low console table near the window. 

He sighed in satisfaction.  Chloe had been muzzled, Sabrina was sulking elsewhere, and Marinette and Adrien would presumably be busy with Bridgette until time for dinner.  This meant that he had a full hour of quiet to—

“…certain that it’s okay for us to stay here?  Felix didn’t exactly seem thrilled with the idea,” Marinette said, her voice growing louder as she drew nearer.

 _Damnit_.

“I promise, it’s fine,” he heard Adrien reassure her.  “If it hadn’t been, he’d have said so earlier.”

“Yes, I’m sure he would have,” she said caustically.

“Marinette—”

“Did you get her settled into a room, then?” Felix asked politely, interrupting Adrien and putting a stop to that particular line of conversation.

“Yes, thank you.  We will be more than comfortable there.”

Adrien turned to her in some surprise.  “You needn’t share the room.  I had thought to give you the room just across the hall from hers.  Did you want to share the room with your sister?”

“Oh, um… We’ve always shared a room.  I just assumed…”

Adrien smile warmly and waved away her stilted response.  “We can figure it out later.”

“How is her ankle?”

Adrien turned back to Felix.  “Perfectly fine, for now.  Whatever Dr. Wang gave her, it knocked her out entirely.”

 Marinette nodded, chuckling.  “She stayed awake long enough to eat a snack, but it was a losing battle after that.  She was snoring when we left.”

Ah.  That explained why they’d returned, rather than staying with Bridgette.  “I’m glad that she’s comfortable.  It is unfortunate that she was injured in the first place.”

Chloe set her magazine down in disgust, and crossed her arms mulishly over her chest.  “I don’t know why you should be worried.  It was her own—”

Felix cleared his throat pointedly, and when he had her attention, raised his brow in challenge.

It was a shame,” she amended hastily, “but I’m sure she’ll be just fine in a few days.  There’s no need to worry.”

Felix gave her a mocking nod, and she scowled.

“So, um…where is Sabrina?” Marinette asked when the silence became awkward.

“Oh.”  Chloe waved a dismissive hand and rolled her eyes dramatically.  “She got into the wet bar in the theater, and passed out.  I asked Nathalie to have someone carry her to her room.”

Marinette blinked in surprise, and looked from one person to the next, as if gauging their reactions.  “I guess this is a regular thing?”

“Regular enough.”  Chloe shrugged, leaning over to choose another magazine.  She made her selection and began flipping through it, and the silence stretched. 

Marinette looked at Adrien, who’d pulled his phone from his pocket and was now engrossed in it.  Then she looked at him.  His slitted eyes gave the impression that they were closed, and seeing no help there, Marinette rose from her seat and began looking over the books on a nearby shelf.

Felix watched her curiously, wondering whether she was just idly browsing, or whether she was actually looking for something to read.  She hummed absently as she moved down the shelf, sometimes rising on tiptoe to reach something on the top shelf or bending down to pull a book from a lower shelf.  She was gradually moving closer to him, and he realized that if she continued, she would pass very close to him.

Marinette took that opportunity to shift her weight from one foot to another, and Felix found his gaze drawn inexorably to her pert derriere.  She shifted again, tilting her ass from one side to the other.  He swallowed thickly and closed his eyes fully before she could come any closer—and before his thoughts could devolve further.

He opened them fully a moment later, at the sound of Chloe’s scoff.

“Really, Marinette?” she asked, her voice acid. 

Marinette jumped, startled, and looked blankly at Chloe.  “What?”

Chloe scoffed, her lips twisted into a cruel smirk.  “Standing there, shaking your ass in Felix’s face in the hope that he might actually notice you?  Pathetic.”

Marinette’s face paled, then flushed a dark red as she turned self-consciously to put her back to the book shelf.  “I’m looking at books, Chloe, not looking for a victim to seduce.  That’s a trick out of your arsenal, not mine.”

“How dare you suggest—”

“Enough,” Felix interjected, more than fed up with her.  “Fucking hell,” he muttered, stalking from the room.

He had been enjoying the view, and he’d enjoyed it all the more because he knew that her movements had been without artifice.  He found it refreshing, just as Adrien did.  Given that the vast majority of their experience had been with society women like Chloe and Sabrina Bourgeois, it was no wonder that Adrien was already half in love with Bridgette. 

Felix thought again of Marinette’s spirited personality and snapping blue eyes, and reminded himself firmly that she was too far removed from his sphere for her to ever be anything more than a dalliance.   Then he put the idea of even an affair out of his mind; he strongly suspected that with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, a little would never be enough.


	5. House Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls learn that their cousin will be coming for an extended stay, Adrien and Felix run into an old friend, and Marinette meets someone new.

“Sabine, my darling—”

“Oh-oh,” Marinette interrupted, lowering her laden fork in favor of teasing her father.  She grinned.  “Looks like Papa’s in trouble.”

“I’m not—I’m not in trouble,” he protested, looking affronted.

“Then you’re about to be,” Bridgette said.  “You only start off like that when you’re in trouble.”

“They’re not wrong,” Sabine said, somehow managing to look both amused and apprehensive.  She took a long sip of her coffee, breathing in the bracing aroma, and lowered her mug.  “What is it?”

Tom cleared his throat, gulped at his coffee, and cleared his throat again.

The girls giggled, and Sabine sighed.  “Out with it, dear.”

“Max is coming to stay the semester with us,” he blurted, ignoring the girls’ groans of dismay, “and he’ll be here today.  I forgot to tell you.”

Sabine pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and fore finger with another sigh.  “You forgot, or you put off telling us?”  Tom winced guiltily, giving Sabine all the answer she needed.  She stood and began clearing away their breakfast dishes.  “Mm-hmm.  Well then, I suppose you can handle putting clean sheets on the bed in the guest room, then?” she asked sweetly.

Tom slumped in relief and grinned at his wife.  “Of course I can, my darling!  I’ll make sure everything is ready by the time he gets here.”

Marinette shared a look with her sister.  “Which will be when, exactly?”

“Four o’clock this afternoon, assuming that his train arrives on time.  Will you girls be here to welcome him?”

“Do we have to be?” Bridgette asked hopefully.

“Yes, you do,” her mother answered firmly.  “You’re both due in the café until four anyway, so you have no excuse.  He may be a bit...ah…”

“Difficult?” Bridgette supplied helpfully.

“Obnoxious?” Marinette added.

“Awkward,” Sabine continued firmly, her expression reproving.  “But he’s still your cousin and we will make him welcome here.”

“Yes, Maman,” they chorused dutifully, though they both wore glum expressions.

“There’s my girls,” Tom said, smiling.  He stood and carried his plate to the sink, and Sabine followed hot on his heels.

“The whole semester, Tom, really?” she hissed quietly.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry!” He whispered back.  “You know how Catherine can be, though.  How could I say no?”

Both girls muffled their laughter behind their hands, and slipped quietly out of the apartment. 

“Poor Papa,” Bridgette said, shaking her head as she reached both for the bannister and for Marinette’s shoulder.  Her ankle was much better than it had been when she’d first fallen a week ago, but it was still weak and neither of them wanted to take a chance on her tumbling down the stairs.

“‘Poor Papa’,” Marinette echoed incredulously, glancing at her sister as she helped her maneuver down the steps.  “We’re the ones who will be stuck entertaining Max all semester.”

“Oh, it won’t be so bad, Mari.  You’ll see.”

Marinette scoffed.  “I love Max, I do.  But when he’s around, it is always that bad.”

 

* * *

 

 “I’m telling you, Fe, this is hands down the best bakery in all of Paris,” Adrien said, peering excitedly out of the window at the passing streets.  “My mother swears by this place, and so does yours!”

“Really?  I hadn’t known,” Felix said drily.  Unlike Adrien, he was reclining lazily in his seat, his head against his head rest and his eyes closed.

Adrien ignored his friend’s sarcasm; he was used to it.  “Chloe says that they serve coffee and stuff now, too, and she flat refuses to go anywhere else.  And you know Chloe,” he added.  “She wouldn’t deign to drink anything that isn’t ‘the best’.”   

Felix scoffed, acknowledging the truth of that, and then remembered what she’d said at the party.   This, then, is the girls’ café, Felix realized.  He wondered if they would be working this afternoon, suddenly feeling a bit more enthusiastic about the errand.  Then wondered why it should make a difference one way or another. 

“We’re here!” Adrien said, drawing Felix’s attention once more.  Adrien burst out of the car almost before it stopped.  “Here it is, the best _boulangerie et pâtisserie_ in the city!” he said, gesturing grandly at the unassuming shopfront behind him. 

Felix slid out of the car behind him with a murmured thanks to their driver, and frowned up at the corner building before him.  It didn’t look like much from the outside, and he was more skeptical than ever about his friends’ claims.  “ **This** is the place everyone has been raving about?” he asked doubtfully.

“Don’t you know better than to judge a book by its cover, Fe?”  Adrien scolded.  He opened the door, making the bells above it jingle.  “Come on, it won’t kill you to give it a chance.”

Felix sighed and walked past Adrien into the shop.  At this point, he was willing to give it a chance just to shut him up about it.

The first thing he noticed was the absence of other customers.  Was it a normal lull, or had his father’s staff bullied everyone out in advance of their arrival?   Despite his relief at being spared an audience, he hoped that it was coincidence, not contrived.

A heartbeat after that, he registered that there were no beautiful young women behind the counter with sweet smiles or snapping blue eyes.  He stifled his disappointment and took in the shop itself.

In contrast to its forgettable exterior, the inside was tastefully decorated shades of pale pink and gold.  The shop’s wares, whose aromas had greeted him the moment he stepped through the door, were laid out neatly on gleaming white counters and shelves.  Beyond the shop’s displays was a dining area with an eclectic collection of mismatched café tables and chairs.  Set against the warm brick of the room, the overall effect was charming, and he realized with some surprise that he liked it.  If the food tasted half as good as it smelled, then he’d have to concede that their reputation was entirely deserved.

“Oh wow, that’s new!” Adrien said, peering into the dining area.  “The last time I was here, this was part of the kitchen.”

“Then it must have been quite some time since you were here last,” said a diminutive Asian woman that Felix hadn’t initially noticed, but immediately recognized as a relation of Marinette’s.  “It’s been years since we expanded the shop!”

“Mrs. Cheng?” Adrien asked hopefully.

“Why yes, do I—” She broke off suddenly and her eyes widened in recognition.  “Adrien?”  He nodded, and the small woman bustled out from behind the counter with a bright smile.  “Goodness, you’ve grown!  Your photo on the TV doesn’t do you justice.  Have you got a hug for an old woman, or have you outgrown such things now?”

Felix all but gaped at the woman’s behavior, but Adrien walked into her open arms as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

“Nonsense,” he said warmly.  “You’re every bit as lovely now as I remember you being before, and I will never be too old for hugs.”

“Oh, dear,” she said, smiling up at him, “you’re every bit the charmer Bridgette claimed you to be.”

Adrien’s brow furrowed in confusion then rose incredulously when he made the connection.  “Bridgette and Marinette are **your** daughters?”

“All of their lives,” she said impishly.  Then she turned expectantly to Felix.  “And you must be Felix.  I haven’t seen you since you were an infant.”

Felix resisted the urge to step back.  “Mrs. Cheng,” he said coolly, with only the barest hint of a smile.

“Your father’s son, I see,” she observed with a merry twinkle.  “It seems that Marinette wasn’t much given to exaggeration, either.”

Adrien snickered, and Felix bristled. 

“Come now, both of you, and take your pick of the shop while I get started on something for you to drink.  I know you didn’t come here to see me, after all.”

She buzzed efficiently about the shop as they browsed, and presented them with their requested drinks just as they made their pastry selection.  When they tried to pay, she declined and adroitly maneuvered them into a promise for ‘next time’. 

Felix couldn’t recall the last time he’d been so deftly—or pleasantly—manipulated. 

 

* * *

 

 “What was it you were you saying earlier, Bri?” Marinette asked, leaning close to Bridgette so as not to be over heard.  “Something about, ‘it won’t be so bad’?”  Bridgette elbowed her in the side, and Marinette straightened with a smile for her awkward, if well-meaning cousin.  “Are you having a good time, Max?” she asked politely, gesturing around them. 

They were at a sort of indoor carnival and resource fair, held in the main hall of the Student Union.  It was the second major social mixer planned by the University, and intended to give students a chance to meet their peers, become comfortable on campus, and learn more about the different organizations and resources on campus.

“Oh absolutely!  This is quite an impressive Hall, though I must say that it doesn’t quite compare to the one at De Bourgh University.  Did you know that the De Bourgh family donated their entire estate to the pursuit of higher learning, and that Sir Lewis De Bourgh himself was the first dean?”

“Ah, yes we did, actually.”

He looked nonplussed for a moment, then rallied.  “Well, they recently installed a brand new, state-of-the-art arts wing that cost in excess of—”

“Is your discipline within the arts, then, Max?” Bridgette asked, hoping to divert the conversation to something they might care about, at least a little bit.

“Oh, no.  I would never study something so frivolous as that.  I will be studying theology and philosophy under—”

“Ahh,” Marinette interrupted him. “That’s too bad then.  I’m studying fashion, and Bridgette is studying graphic design.”

“Oh!  No!  I mean, that is to say—” he spluttered awkwardly.  “I meant no offense, of course, I just—”

Bridgette stopped him with a hand on his arm.  “Relax, Max.  Mari’s just teasing you.”

He looked between them, and Marinette nodded a confirmation.  “The arts aren’t for everyone,” she said lightly.  “And theology is no more appealing to me than fashion is to you, I’m sure.”

Max smiled, and relaxed a bit.  “Teasing.  I should have known.  You’ve always been a tease, Marinette.”

Bridgette choked on her drink, Marinette hid a laugh behind a cough, and Max’s eyes flew wide as he realized the double-entendre in his comment.  “No! N-Not like that!  I would never suggest—I meant—”

“It’s alright,” Marinette assured him, still laughing.  “We know what you meant.”

“Look, Bridgette said, pointing to a table set off to the side.  “Nino, Alya , Ivan and Mylene are setting up a Magic game.  Didn’t you say that you wanted to learn how to play?”

“Are they?”  He brightened, and turned to wave at Alya.  She returned his wave with a pained smile.  Then he turned back to Bridgette.  “It can’t be that different from D&D, right?  Do you think they’d be willing to teach me?” 

“Oh, I’m certain that they would,” Marinette said encouragingly.  “Ivan almost always brings more than one deck, and he doesn’t mind sharing.”

“Absolutely,” Bridgette agreed firmly.  “Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

 _I’ll have to remember to thank her later_ , Marinette thought to herself as her sister led their cousin away.  _Especially since she’s still limping_.

He was a bizarre mix of snooty pretension and complete social ineptitude.  The poor thing had been home schooled, isolated from his peers, and taught to believe in his own superiority.  _At least he hadn’t turned cruel_ , she thought, shaking her head.  Awkward is better than cruel, any day.

“Excuse me,” said a voice at her side.  She turned to see a handsome young man, probably a few years older than she was, with a shy expression on his tanned face. “It’s Marinette, right?”

“That’s right.”  Marinette smiled at the good-looking stranger and held out her hand. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“We haven’t, actually.”  He took her hand and shook it firmly, without squeezing in a show of ridiculous male dominance.  She liked him immediately.  “My name is Théo Barbot.  I’m here with a study abroad program, and word on the street is that no one knows the art department quite like you do.”

“Really?” Marinette arched a skeptical brow, but her smile widened.  “Is that so?”

“Ah, no, actually,” he admitted sheepishly.  “My roommate pointed out a few people who could show me around.  I just…had a good feeling about you.”

Marinette blushed at that last bit, but otherwise ignored it.  “Who is your roommate?”

“Denny—ah, Dennis Regent,” he answered, pointing at a familiar-looking young man near the refreshment table.  He saw them looking at him, and waved.  “I think he knows your sister.”

“Yeah, he was in a few of her classes last year,” Marinette said, nodding in recognition.  She turned back to her new companion.  “Well, Théo, what would you like to know?”

“Oh man,” he said, widening his eyes. “I don’t even know!  There’s so much.  Um, here.  Maybe you could tell me about the professors I’ll be working with?”  He fumbled for his phone, and brought up an email confirming the classes he’d signed up for.  “I’ve got Dupont for Abstract Theory.”  He grimaced.  “Denny said that Dupont is a bear.”

“Oh, Professor Dupont isn’t so bad, so long as you don’t show up late to his class or try to turn an assignment in after it’s due.  Tardiness is his pet peeve.”

“That’s good to know, I guess.”  He scrolled down, scanning the email.  “What about this one?”

Marinette stepped closer to him to look at his phone, bringing their heads close together.  As she scanned his schedule, she noticed the subtle, spicy scent of his cologne and bit at her lip.  Great smile, firm handshake, doesn’t find it necessary to bathe in his cologne, **and** he’s in my department?  _Better and better_ , she thought.

Aloud, she said,  “Antonin?”  She shrugged.  “Super easy, so long as you don’t miss class.”

He quirked a smile at her, and Marinette felt her heart do a little flip.  “No skipping, then, huh?” he asked.

“No skipping,” she confirmed. 

“Bustier?”

“High standards, but really super nice.”

“What about this one?”

Marinette leaned back in to see what he was pointing at, then winced and hissed through her teeth.  “Mendeliev.”

His brows went up.  “That bad?”

Marinette shrugged noncommittally, but her expression spoke volumes.  “I’ve never had her, but she’s got a nasty reputation.”

“Great.”  Théo’s shoulders fell.  “I’m not going to have much free time this semester, am I?”

“Not much,” she said, her voice sympathetic.  Then she frowned thoughtfully; Mendeliev only taught senior level courses.  She cleared her throat.  “So, this is your senior year?”

“Yeah.  I’m doing my last year here.  Why?”

She twisted her lips into a wry smile and crossed her arms over her breast.  “You’re a senior, and your roommate pointed out sophomores to help you learn the ropes?”  He flushed, and Marinette grinned impishly.  “I’m not buying it.”

“Alright, yes, I admit it,” he replied with his hands up, palms out, in a gesture of surrender.  “I wanted an excuse to talk to you.  But in my defense, Denny **did** say that you would be a good one to show me around.”

“I suppose I’ll allow it,” she drawled, smirking. 

“Then I am in your debt,” he said gallantly, bowing.  “If I take you out for coffee, can we call it even?”  He held out his crooked arm, his expression hopeful, and Marinette melted.

“Coffee sounds great,” she said, taking his arm. “And it just so happens that I know the perfect place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter: Mr. Collins! I'm not sure how I feel about Max in that role; I thought about making him an OC named Collin, but I thought this was better. What did you think?


End file.
